


Flowers

by Nehesemhotep



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coda s11e4, Emotional Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-29
Updated: 2015-10-29
Packaged: 2018-04-28 19:49:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5103605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nehesemhotep/pseuds/Nehesemhotep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’ll have to take this outside,” Cas murmured, “This flower needs sunlight.”  He stood, turning with the pot in his hands. “Cas,” Dean started. Cas stopped and looked away again, dirt blackened fingertips tapping anxiously.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flowers

        When Dean entered the room Cas was placing soil around a flower, his hands gently pressing the dirt around a delicate stem.  The flower was yellow.  Cas turned to Dean and scanned his face, almost dispassionately but for the way he turned; his mouth tightening slightly and a furrow breaking the calm, serene expression on his face.

“I’ll have to take this outside,” Cas murmured, “This flower needs sunlight.”  He stood, turning with the pot in his hands. “Cas,” Dean started. Cas stopped and looked away again, dirt blackened fingertips tapping anxiously, “I can place it away from the entrance, if that’s a problem.” 

        Dean felt his stomach drop, “No, Cas. I didn’t mean.” He cleared his throat, “Go ahead and plant-you know, flowers come first, right?”  Dean gave a tight smile, but Cas squinted, 

        “First before what?” 

                “Before fruit? You don’t…” he trailed off.  Why he was wanting to remind Castiel of his Lucifer-laced fresh out of a coma days, he didn’t know.  It was years passed, but Dean would never forget how the angel looked then.  Like a kicked puppy, frightened.  Cas had rambled about a lot of things. He probably didn’t remember.   

        But as Cas' eyes widened, it was clear he remembered.  “Oh.”  There was an awkward moment before  Castiel forced a laugh, “Yes, well, flowers are-.”  Cas set the planter on his desk, where it rested next to a delicately carved scarab amulet Cas had reportedly found in a thrift shop, where he had found a pair of mittens, also.  His hands had been cold since the spell was lifted,  he had explained.  Dean had swallowed guiltily, and the next day he threw a warm hat on Cas’ bed.  It was dark brown and soft.  

        Dean snapped back to the present as Cas sat in the desk chair and touched the petals of the flower slowly, “It is so easy to destroy a flower.  Too much water. Too little sun.  They need light and love.” Cas’ face was wistful, “And when they die, they leave the ground better for the flowers that come afterward.” His hand dropped to the desk with a slight plunk.  

        “I hope you’re not the flower, here.” Dean found his voice was shaky, and Cas looked to him, eyes wet.

        “What?” he said gruffly.  Dean cleared his throat, ran a hand through his hair, 

         “I just don’t see anything being better when you’re not, if you weren’t…” Dean kept his gaze turned from Cas’, “I told Sam that this was home. Baby has been home for so long, and sometimes it still is, too, but it all depends,” Dean’s voice broke off.  

        He felt Cas shift and stand, heard his breathing, inches from his face.  Dean closed his eyes shut tightly.  This was why he insisted on personal space. With Cas this close he could almost believe what he wanted was real.  That he deserved this.  

        “Depends on what, Dean?”  

        Dean’s throat was choked, but he finally forced out, “You.”  He flinched when he felt warm fingertips touch his cheek.  He could feel the dirt leaving a trail on his skin as the fingers moved to behind his ear and then clasping the back of his neck, stroking the short hair there.  With a gentle motion Cas pulled Dean towards him in an embrace, so that Dean’s face fell on to his shoulder.  He could feel the warmth of Cas' body.  The carefulness with which he held Dean.  It was like he was more precious than any flower Cas had tended.  

        "You come first, Dean."  Cas' quiet voice was reverent, sure.  With a stifled sob, Dean wrapped his arms around Cas, just letting himself be touched with love.

        He was home.


End file.
